


Awakening

by FoxRafer



Series: Trick or Treat 2010 [9]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>2010 Halloween treat for <a href="http://mooms.livejournal.com/"><b>mooms</b></a>; inspired by the prompt 'dawn.'</p>
    </blockquote>





	Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> 2010 Halloween treat for [**mooms**](http://mooms.livejournal.com/); inspired by the prompt 'dawn.'

Every morning was the same. He'd wake as the room began to barely brighten from the first faint hints of early morning light. He'd turn toward what he hoped would be the man who'd shared his bed last night. But every morning Viggo would be gone.

He told himself he shouldn't care. He wasn't some clingy bloke who wanted cuddles or breakfast in bed or holding hands down the street. And he certainly wasn't looking for Viggo's undivided attention and undying devotion. He liked his space just as much as the next guy, and goodness knows he'd scarpered in the middle of the night on more than one occasion himself. But that didn't stop this little voice in the back of his mind from yelling its displeasure, from wondering what was wrong with him that Viggo never stayed.

Later in the day, as they blocked out scenes and ran lines, Sean feigned indifference. He reflected the casual camaraderie in Viggo's eyes, mirrored the body language of simple friendship. And all the while frustration and resentment crowded and squeezed him, threatened to erupt into anger and indignation. But he'd be damned if he'd give Viggo the satisfaction of seeing how much he cared, how much he found himself wanting more.

He thought about just stopping, no more fumbling back to his place, no more heated nights tangled in sheets and sweat-slicked limbs. Go back to how it was between them when Viggo first arrived, before they discovered this mutual craving and lust. But he couldn't reign in his desire, couldn't stop the nod of his head when Viggo asked "Back to yours?" And every time the curtain came down on this demoralizing play, Sean felt more sick, more defeated.

But tonight, tonight he was determined to take charge of the situation, stand their routine on its head. Tonight he downed his last pint, looked up at Viggo across the smoky haze of the bar, and asked: "Back to yours?" He'd expected a simple nod, maybe a brief pause of surprise before the offer was accepted. What he got were eyes momentarily wide not in shock but fear, followed by a slump of shoulders as his mate deflated in front of his eyes.

"Too tired?" he asked after a minute had passed in awkward silence.

Viggo finished his drink and shook his head, looked back at Sean with what could only be sadness in his eyes.

"I don't think I could stand it when you leave in the morning, waking up without you there."

"What?" Sean only managed to keep his tone low, the word coming out more like an angry growl. "Fuck you, Mr. Sensitivity. Heaven forbid you should know how it feels. But me, I'm just supposed to take it, is that it?" He reached for his wallet and began blindly rummaging for the right number of bills. He nearly swung out as a hand came to rest on his wrist, at the last minute merely pulling himself away from the touch.

"Just wait a minute. Why the hell are you so angry? I left because you wanted me to. If anyone should be angry it's me."

"I wanted you to?" Sean seethed. "What the fuck gave you that idea?"

Viggo crossed his arms, his temper taking over. "Oh, I don't know. Just the fact that you're always so blasé about it the next day, laughing and flirting with everyone, totally okay with having me be your dirty little secret."

"Blasé? You think _I_ want this to be a secret?" Sean's brain stumbled and fell, unable to do anything but parrot Viggo's words. He shoved his wallet back in his pocket and simply stared at Viggo, trying to push back his own anger to make room for what had been said. Silence always had been his biggest fault, one of the traits that helped kill each of his marriages. More often than not he chose to stew over something, let it fester in his gut, rather than say anything and risk rocking the boat. But the ship always capsized anyway, just like it was on the brink of here.

He noticed Viggo begin to shift slightly in his seat, realized he didn't know how long he'd been blindly staring at him, lost in his thoughts. He cleared his throat, saw Viggo regain his defensive posture, and couldn't help smiling a little.

"You've been leaving because you thought I wanted you to and I've let you because I thought you wanted to go. And if I've been 'blasé' it's because I was copying you."

Viggo began to protest but stopped abruptly, recognition and understanding beginning to brighten his face. His eyes seemed to focus more acutely on Sean and he started to smile.

"I guess it's time to lay all the cards on the table," Sean continued. "I never said anything because I didn't want to seem needy, didn't want you to see how much waking up without you there bothered me."

In that moment Viggo's smile boiled over into a full-blown laugh, the goofy giggles that forced a real smile onto Sean's face.

"Aren't we too old to be making those same mistakes?" Viggo finally asked, leaning forward to speak conspiratorially across the table.

Sean drew closer. "You'd think, wouldn't you?"

"So we're agreed. Back to yours?"

Sean's mind hitched at the familiar words, thinking in some bizarre way they'd just put the record back on the same groove, that the understanding he thought they'd achieved only moments ago, albeit in their rather terse way, had merely been imagined.

"But do you have any food in the house?" Viggo continued, sliding out of the booth. "If not, you're the one going out to get breakfast in the morning. It being your place and all."

Sean felt a great weight lift off him, his body lighter than it'd been in weeks. "Does that mean I also have to pick up the tab tonight?"

Viggo cocked his head a little, thinking it over. "You do owe me."

"In that case," Sean said, sliding the tip underneath the salt shaker, "tomorrow it's back to yours."

"That seems fair. After all, I owe you, too."


End file.
